


Love Story

by jamesilver



Series: A Drarry Playlist [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Voldemort, Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Forbidden Love, Lucius is an asshole, M/M, Romeo and Juliet AU, Secret Relationship, alternate universe-- romeo and juliet au, draco is a drama queen, holy shit y'all, mentioned astoria and mentioned lily and james, seriously please read this, throwing rocks at windows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-12-04 23:05:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11565210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamesilver/pseuds/jamesilver
Summary: His father was right. Harry couldn't ever love a person like Draco. They could never be together. But...But Harry calls him angel.





	Love Story

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is part of a series that takes songs and creates inspired fics using parts of the song. This specific fic was based off of Taylor Swift's Love Story and I do not own the rights to any lyrics I possibly used, or any of J. K. Rowlings characters used. I am not making any money off of this whatsoever so please don't sue me. 
> 
> Playlist will be linked in end notes. 
> 
> ((also this is my first drarry fic!!))

The summer air was hot on his skin, thick and humid and it felt like it was getting under his robes in the same way that the people were getting under his skin. Everything about the room felt poised-- an act, similar to the way his life was. Dodging along the edge of the crowd, he slipped behind people who weren't looking until he finally found himself out on the balcony. 

It was fairly deserted and he was finally able to put the ball behind him. With his back to the door he stood, stomach pressed against the railing and knuckles turning white on it. His eyes screwed shut now, it all began crashing down on him, as it often did when he was alone, and his breathing picked up. This was his life. Aristocratic and suffocating but he couldn't let his mask fail in front of all of these people. It took years to perfect that mask that graced his face on nights like these and he opened his eyes once more, sure he would be able to keep himself under control. 

The balcony was a few stories up, situated off the end of the ballroom that featured cathedral ceilings and long, elegant windows to showcase the forest and lake surrounding building itself. He was facing the forest and there was an overwhelming urge to run into it and lose himself there. But he knew he had to face the crowd behind him. 

Draco turned, an image to behold as he held  his chin up. Robes of perfection, he looked sharp enough to cut a diamond and his face was stoic as ever. Peering into the ballroom, he saw a young man his age making his way through the crowd and something inside him told him to not go back inside just yet. Feigning nonchalance, he turned once more, leaning against the railing this time to appear calm. The man's footsteps fell against the floor marble him and Draco listened to them get closer and closer and-- a warm presence found itself at Draco's side. 

He turned to get a better look at the man. Not having seen him well before, his eyes widened slightly. He was stunning. He had dark brown hair that was curled all across his forehead, gently waving in the breeze and entrancing Draco. His skin was a stark contrast to Draco's own paleness and his eyes were green. Even from the side, Draco could see that they were blazing green like a fire. The man's robes were a deep crimson and accented his shoulders and his hips perfectly. It was difficult not to stare, but Draco couldn't turn away, even as the man's eyes met his own. 

"Hello." His voice was deep and smooth and like velvet and Draco wanted to get lost in it. He found himself with a mouth so dry he could barely make out a response. 

"Hi," was all managed, in a hushed tone. 

The man shifted and his shoulders faced Draco as he leaned one arm on the railing. Unsure of what to do, Draco stayed where he was. The corners of the man's mouth tipped up in the shadow of a smirk as his eyes began to dip and wander across Draco's form. When they met his once more, the man spoke again. "You're gorgeous," and the smile was genuine. 

Draco cleared his throat, abruptly turning back to face the forest. He was hoping that there wasn't a blush rising to his cheeks. From where he stood, he felt the man take a step closer and suddenly there were mere inches as the man leaned towards him.

"Why don't we skip the ball?" Draco's breath hitched as he felt the man's warm breath on his ear as he spoke. He felt one of the man's hand lay against his own on the railing. "Come with me. Let me get to know you a bit." The man pulled back a few inches, moving to look Draco in the eyes. "You only want to be here as much as I do." There was a hint of a smile on both faces as the man gave Draco's hand a tug and led him to the side of the balcony where a small staircase wound down the side to the grass. 

It felt like he was sneaking out. Draco had never done anything like his before and he knew that his father would be so upset if he was caught and he voiced as much to the mystery man who was still holding his hand. 

The man spun so he was walking backwards, leading Draco around the building with a smirk playing at his lips once more. "And what would your father say if he found you down by the lake with a man?" 

Draco almost rolled his eyes because that answer was obvious. "He would be infuriated. Not only that I had left the ball, but that I was found...with someone." 

The man stopped, and used their connected hands to pull Draco chest to chest. "Here's the thing, though," he whispered. "Does it really matter?" Draco wanted to answer of course it matters, but the man didn't give him a moment to. "Do you really care what he thinks? What anyone thinks?" He paused, bright green eyes staring into Draco's. "I think it only matters what you think." 

Once more the man spun and walked all the way until he and Draco were standing on the shore of the lake. There was a breeze rolling across the waves and it smelled like the water. Sneaking a look at the other man, Draco found him facing the breeze with his eyes closed, those curls once more bouncing across his forehead. A smile curled across the man's face and he kept his eyes closed as he spoke. 

"You're quiet." 

"Why have you brought me here?" 

Dazzling green eyes met his once more. "Why do you think?" They were nestled in a part of the lake that wouldn't be visible from the ballroom, thanks to the trees curling around the edges of where they stood. The man led them further into the trees where the shore was a tad rocky and began taking off his shoes. Draco was appalled. Did the man really expect him to-- His hand was released as the man began wading into the water, robes and trousers and all. He had been drug out of the building by a madman. 

"So are you coming, or not?" 

With less hesitation than he should have had, Draco left his shoes and socks on the sand and rocks by the other man's and waded in after him. This was reckless and unlike anything he had ever done before. For all he knew, this unknown man was planning to kill him out on the lake. 

Draco stopped when he reached the man, silence stretching between them for a moment. Finally, Draco decided to break it. "It's bloody freezing. Why did I follow you in here?" 

A gorgeous laugh rang out from the man and Draco could have fallen in love right there. 

Then the man went quiet again for a moment before replying. "I hate those kinds of parties. It all feels so suffocating. Everyone has expectations of what they want you to be and it's just all so numbing. The cold water's a good shock back to reality sometimes. Reminds me I'm my own person." He met Draco's eyes. "Do you ever feel that way?" 

Seized by an urge he could never name, Draco leaned over and kissed the man. Without missing a beat, the man kissed him back, once more entwining their fingers. Draco pulled back a breath, too many emotions in him. "Yes. Constantly." No one had ever voiced that feeling before. 

The man pressed their foreheads together and a sigh of relief escaped him. "No one else had ever understood." 

Draco reached and grabbed the man's free hand with his own. "I know what you mean." He took a deep breath, unsure if it was safe to bear his soul as he was about to. "I constantly feeling like running off. I want any life but this one. I want to be free. Away from it all." 

The man kissed him again and it felt like melting. Despite the cold wrapped around his legs, Draco felt warmth wrapping around his heart. 

"Yes. That's all I want. I want away from this never-ending feud that I was born into and don't want to fight." 

His voice barely audible, Draco agreed. "I don't want to fight my parent's battles either." 

The man pulled away, a sad look in his eyes. "Surely it's better for you, though." 

Confused, Draco tried to catch the man's eye, but he was staring back out over the lake. Draco was happy to note that both of their hands were still holding each other's. "What do you mean?" 

"I mean, it must be easier to be part of one of the supporting families of the fight." 

Now Draco was really confused. Did this man not realize who he was talking to? Did he not realize that he wasn't some other Malfoy-aligned family, but rather a Malfoy himself? And if what he was saying made any sense....

"I'm not part of a supporting family." This made the man look back at him again. "I'm Draco Malfoy." 

The man's eyes widened with shock, but he didn't step back and he didn't let go of Draco's hands. "I assumed you would know that I'm Harry Potter." 

Fuck, so it was what he was thinking. No. No, he didn't want to have to let this man go. "I had no idea. I figured you would know who I was, too." 

Harry gave him a lopsided smile at that. "I guess the family feud is getting to us already, huh?" 

Neither left. Neither wanted to go back to the ball. They talked more, standing there in the water and learned about each other. They had never met at school because Harry was sent to Hogwarts, whereas Draco went to Beauxbatons. The only children of the most prominent wizarding families of Great Britain were taught to hate each other but Draco found it amazing that he was standing in a cold lake and couldn't think anything except wonder how he could be expected to hate those green eyes? 

The pair found themselves wet and laying on the sand, not caring about the dirt they were getting on their pristine robes or in their hair, or even the long standing hatred of their families as Harry listened to Draco name constellations. Draco was almost pressed against Harry's side, his head resting on the man's chest as he pointed to the night sky. They talked about their childhoods and their upbringings and the beliefs their parents indoctrinated into them. 

Draco confessed that he was told to believe that anyone not of pure wizarding blood was lesser and Harry responded by saying he grew up thinking everyone from a family like Draco's was evil. "But how could they all be evil when you are the only one that understands me?" The words would ring in Draco's head forever. 

With the moon higher in the sky than when their night began, they parted ways. Harry pulled Draco into a kiss, his hands on either side of Draco's face. Draco's fingers wrapped around his wrists as the kiss deepened. It seemed like all that they didn't want to say was contained in that kiss. Neither had the words for 'will we ever see each other again,' or 'we will grow to hate each other like we're supposed to'. 

Draco felt as a tear slid onto his cheek but he realized that he was not crying. Harry's grip had become almost desperate and he pulled back, whispering on Draco's lips, "I don't want to..." 

Draco kissed him again, wishing he could will all those thoughts from both of their minds. With their foreheads pressed together, another tear slid down Draco's cheek, this time his own. "Never forget me," he whispered to Harry, as if gifting him with a precious secret. "Never forget tonight." 

And it was their precious secret. 

 

__________

 

Draco spent the next weeks ghosting around the manor. It wasn't that he had fallen in love, per se. After all, they had only been alone for about an hour. That wasn't hardly enough time to fall in love with someone. It was rather the realization that he would never have the chance to. 

That night held the memory of the most open conversation Draco had ever had with anyone. He almost hadn't known it was possible. It was like neither of them had a filter and neither was judged for anything that he said. Draco had never felt the deep level of understanding that he felt when speaking to Harry. And now, he would never be able to build on that. They could have gone somewhere-- they could have been something. Now they will never know. All because of who they were. Who their parents were. And that was what made Draco angry. It wasn't his battle and he couldn't be with Harry because of it. 

Most of the following days he spent in his own room. It was strange to contemplate life in this way, to know that you could never have what you want. Even if Draco at some point decided that Harry wasn't what he wanted, he would never know. He would never even have that chance. 

He didn't leave his room for meals. The house elves would leave food outside his door, and his mother would come and try to check on him. But it was as if something in him had stilled. He could never have what he wanted in life. 

The urge to run had never been so strong. 

 

It was the peck of a beautiful white owl on his window that startled him out of his thoughts. Confused, he let the owl in and took the letter she was carrying. He didn't recognize the handwriting, but the letter was addressed to him. 

"Draco,

I don't know about you, but I have not been able to stop thinking of our time together. No one had ever related to me like that. In fact, I'm not sure if anyone had ever cared. 

If that night meant nothing to you, please disregard this. I would understand. If you want nothing to do with me, simply send Hedwig back with no letter and I won't bother you again. I would understand. However, if you're interested at all, please send a letter back. I want to get to know you. Maybe you and I can end this generations-old feud. I know that I don't want to fight." 

It was signed in a beautiful, elegant H. That was all. The letter didn't even have the Potter family crest. But by the time Draco had made up his mind to respond, he had already memorized the lines of the H and the way Harry's letter's tilted in his terrible penmanship. 

Taking a piece of parchment, Draco sat at his desk and began composing a response. None of the words that he thought seemed to make any sense in terms of a response. What did Harry even want? He said he wanted to "get to know" Draco and that he "didn't want to fight." But what if this was all a ploy to figure out Draco's weaknesses? To get an upper hand on the Malfoy's? 

He set down his quill, an unwanted thought settling on his shoulders. Maybe Harry knew who he was all along. Maybe that was the entire reason for what happened. It could all be a trick. 

It had to be. Who wouldn't recognize the signature Malfoy platinum blonde hair? God, how could he be so stupid? 

Yet, he couldn't bring himself to send the owl back without a letter. Maybe it was all a ploy. But did Draco really care?

Taking a deep breath, he began to compose his letter to Harry. It was comfortable and nonchalant but still guarded, just in case. 

 

Draco's head jerked up when Hedwig landed on his still open windowsill. He checked the clock on the wall. He had sent her away less than an hour ago. And here was Harry's response already. 

It was much longer than the last letter, and naïve enthusiasm radiated off of the page. Harry was glad that Draco sent him a letter back and gushed throughout how he couldn't stop thinking about that night. Draco wondered how a person could be so vulnerable. 

"...Every time I close my eyes I see the constellations you were telling me about. And I can hear your voice echoing in my ears, feel the soft vibrations when you talk and your head is pressed against my side. I can still feel your lips across mine and nothing that I touch is soft enough after touching your hair. And I miss the pressure of your presence...." 

He made Draco blush. But of course, he wouldn't admit that. 

The speed of his response may have conveyed it, though. 

As time went on and days passed and their letters never ended, Harry became more poetic:

"...The moon reflected in the lake was akin to a sparkling diamond that night. I wonder what that makes the moon when reflected in your eyes? Perhaps a chandelier? No, not grand enough. Twenty chandeliers?..."  

"...In my memory you glow like an angel. I'm sure that my memory cannot convey just how ethereal you are, so I must for now settle for calling you an angel..." 

They all took Draco's breath away. It felt like his skin was vibrating when he read Harry's words. Was he being courted? Wooed? Was this what it felt like? Still, he couldn't bring himself to return the compliments to the same extent. 

They were a week into their constant letters when Harry asked to see Draco again:

"My angel, I am forgetting what your hands felt like. Were they soft? Did they slide into my palms naturally? Were they cold when they wrapped around my wrists? I can't answer these questions. The small details are beginning to slip from me. Please, let me see you again.” 

It took him too long to respond to Harry’s letter. Long enough that it would be noticeable. He wanted to, of course he wanted to. He just didn’t know how. And he didn’t know if he could let himself get his hopes up. 

His letter back was short and to the point as he tried to deny what he felt at the prospect of seeing Harry again: 

“Okay. When and where?” 

Draco tied the note to the owl and opened the window, promptly shutting it after the owl spread it’s wings, turning to pace his room until he could expect Harry’s response. 

What if Harry changed his mind? What if he decided it was too risky, too dangerous to be seen together? Draco’s breath caught. What if Harry decided that their letters were too risky? 

_Clink._

Draco turned back to the window. It had sounded like the tapping of an owl, but the letter had only been sent seconds ago. What could have made that— 

_Clink._

This time Draco saw something hit the window, but it was dusk and Draco couldn’t see quite well. 

_Clink._

Finally, he opened the window, just as another pebble flew past him and into his room, obviously intended for the window. 

Glancing down, he could barely make out Harry’s form in the waning light. “Draco?” he heard from the darkness. 

“Harry?” 

“My angel. I got your response. I was thinking now and here.” Draco could see the owl perched on Harry’s shoulder. What would he have done if Draco had said no? 

“What are you doing down there? We could get caught.” 

The light from the rising moon was enough for Draco to see Harry’s smile. “I wanted to see you.” He paused. “I was right. My memory doesn’t begin to compare.” 

Draco thought for a moment, trying not to blush and failing. It may be possible for him to get Harry into his room, but there was a good chance the house wards wouldn’t allow him to, as a Potter. Draco could modify them around his window so that Harry could enter through it, but there was also a chance that his father would notice that someone messed with them. He decided to try for it anyway. 

“Let’s see if we can get you up here, yeah Harry?” It was difficult, but he casted a hover charm and was able to grab Harry by the wrists and hoist him into the room. He didn’t let go once they were standing in front of each other, either. 

The smile that was spread across Harry’s face was dazzling in the light of his bedroom and Draco couldn’t help but letting one of his own slip. And then Harry kissed him. Right there. 

When he pulled back, Harry was blushing. “I’m sorry, but I’ve been thinking about doing that again for weeks.” 

Draco didn’t know what to say. Fuck, how did Harry always leave him speechless? He’s always so poised and knows exactly what to say but when Harry is in the room? It’s hopeless. He just smiled like an idiot. 

They ended up, once more, talking for hours. It was satisfying to hear the deep rumble of Harry’s voice and not have to wait for another exhausted owl to turn up at his window. At some point during the conversation, Harry had slumped over and was now laying with his head in Draco’s lap. 

By the time the sun began to rise, they had gone silent. Draco was casually running his fingers through Harry’s unruly locks, leaning against the wall behind him, sitting cross legged on the floor. His other hand was held in both of Harry’s who never seemed to stop fidgeting with it, occasionally pressing kisses to his palm, or his thumb. It wasn’t like the conversation had run out of words. The silence was content and not awkward. It was comforting to just  _be with_  Harry. 

“I suppose I should probably go.” Harry’s whisper jolted Draco and he looked down into Harry’s eyes. 

“I don’t want you to.” 

Harry pressed another kiss to Draco’s fingertips. “The sun’ll be up soon.”

A sad look crossing his face, Draco nodded, understanding. It was best for Harry to go now and Draco would just have to push aside his feelings that he never wanted the other man to leave. 

When Harry stood, Draco felt cold. And with a chaste kiss and a controlled fall, Harry was back outside. The early morning light made his skin glow. 

“Owl me?” Draco said, cursing the hope that he knew was evident in his voice. 

“Of course, my angel.” And Harry Apparated away. By the time Draco looked away from the spot he had stood, the morning sun was fully in the sky and despite the warm summer breeze, his room felt colder than ever. 

Draco waited all through the day, but no owl came. Every time he caught himself glancing at the window, he tried to take a deep breath and remind himself that they didn’t need to have a constant line of communication. He wasn’t obsessed or anything. It wasn’t like a day with no owls meant that Harry didn’t want him anymore. He could be busy. Or— fuck— he could be sleeping for all Draco knew. It wasn’t the end of the world. 

He even considered sitting down to write a letter before he told himself that that was ridiculous. He would seem desperate. It would be over the top. They had just spent the entire night together. It was fine and Draco was going to have to live with it. 

The owls were probably tired. Sure, they had been cycling through about five of them over the past couple of weeks, but honestly the owls needed more rest than that. This was a good thing. 

Another hour passed. 

Maybe Harry just doesn’t know what to say. Maybe he feels awkward. Maybe…he regrets last night. 

Another hour. 

Draco shook his head and forced himself to leave his room. Ten minutes later he caught himself once more ghosting around the manor. It was like he was a damn lost puppy who couldn’t do anything for himself. Draco didn’t know if Harry had hexed him or cursed him or something, but this shit ended now. He decided he just wasn’t going to think about Harry any more today. He folded himself into a chair in the library and pulled out a large book, not moving until he had finished it. 

By the time he had returned to his room, Harry had only crossed his mind a few times. But then the door opened and Hedwig was perched on his desk. Draco inwardly cursed himself because she could have been waiting there all afternoon and he never would have known. He could have been talking to Harry all this time, possibly. What if Harry now thought he just wasn’t respond— 

No. No, Draco was going to play it cool. Even if he wasn’t feeling like that at all. He felt like an obsessive madman: his thoughts just refused to stay away. And, so did the rest of him. It was driving him insane and he was kind of upset with himself. One stupid pair of green eyes and all of Draco’s composure was gone. How could some  _boy_  make him feel like this? When he looked at Harry his insides felt all mushy and he smiled and he felt so utterly stupid for all of it. 

And then he picked up Harry’s letter. All of those things that he was upset about were washed away in a storm of that mushy feeling he hated and yet loved so much. 

“My angel,

When I arrived back home, I intended to sleep. But I couldn’t. Everything felt wrong and empty and I missed the feeling of your fingers in my hair. I spent all day to write you the attached poem. I hope you like it. — H” 

On the other side was a three stanza poem that made Draco feel so mushy his legs couldn’t support him anymore and he sunk to the floor. He read it so many times, unable to believe that he could be reduced to such an utter mess by three stanzas. He needed a response. 

Outside, evening was just creeping in. Draco knew just the thing that Harry needed. 

He pulled out his cauldron and found himself the proper ingredients. The sun was down by the time the brewing was done and he poured the potion into a small vial that he gave to Hedwig with a note: 

“The poem was beautiful. But, if you spent all day awake writing it, you haven’t gotten any sleep for a while. While I do not object to another poem, if you have trouble sleeping tonight, I made this sleeping draught for you.” Draco himself fell asleep just after sending Hedwig on her way. 

A different owl was perched on his windowsill when Draco awoke, late in the morning. 

“I had already written another poem for you. But you truly are an angel, aren’t you? I fell asleep quite alright with your potion, thank you. So kind and thoughtful. Interesting, because your reputation does proceed and that’s so unlike all that I’ve heard…” 

Every day for the rest of the week, Harry sent him poems. They were beautiful and Draco put all of them into a box that he charmed shut. And when he would look at them, he knew. He knew that yes, he was being courted. Or something along those lines. And it made a warm feeling spread across him. Draco tried to ignore what that meant. 

The following week they met again. Once more, Draco found himself talking through the night with Harry. By now they spoke so often that there was hardly a thing that happened in one’s life that the other didn’t know about. This included the awkward topic of betrothals that their families had in the works. And over the weeks, through the letters and the secret, late-night meetings in Draco’s bedroom, Draco found himself in a stable place. Their owls weren’t constant, but they were still daily. They both had lives, after all. But it was also clear that at the center of it all, the other would not slip away. 

It was late one night when Draco realized it. Harry’s head was once more in his lap and he was talking animatedly about something while Draco ran his fingers through the tangles that Harry had accumulated. At some point, Harry’s words themselves almost seemed to fade in the background. Draco simply looked at him and knew. He was in love with this man. 

But he didn’t dare say it. 

The weeks passed like that. By now, they had known each other for months. Their weekly nights spent together were like the only moments Draco could breathe. Despite so much time having past, Harry still looked at him like he was a gift, still showered him with compliments and sappy poetry, and was still completely sincere every time he called Draco an angel. 

And then it all happened. 

 

Draco can’t even remember all of the details of what happened. It was all so fast. He was panicking and couldn’t stop it. There was nothing he could do. 

It was one of the nights when Harry was over. Harry had been sitting on Draco’s bed, leaning against the wall behind him, Draco straddling his lap. They were talking and kissing and laughing and then Draco’s entire world shattered. 

He doesn’t remember his father entering the room, but there was yelling and Harry was scrambling to run. Lucius caught him by the shirt, his outer robes lying across Draco’s floor. He dragged Harry through the manor to the entryway, not being careful as Harry tripped across the steps. Draco ran after them, yelling and ignoring the hot tears streaming down his face. When he caught up, he grabbed onto where his father’s hands were grasping Harry’s shirt and tried to pull them apart, screaming “get  _off_  of him” frantically. He was begging with his father, pleading, trying to do anything he could. 

When Harry wrenched free from Lucius’ grip, Draco’s father drew his wand and told Draco to get back. Instead he lunged forward, intent on protecting Harry at all costs. His mother came out of nowhere, dragging a fighting and screaming Draco back as far as the steps. 

Lucius had his wand tip pressed under Harry’s chin. “Stay away from my  _son_ , Potter. If I  _ever_  see you in this house again—“ 

Draco was crying on the steps, held back still by his mother’s arms. “But, father, I love him.” All eyes turned to Draco and his sobs were the only sound to be heard. Lucius looked like someone had just told him he had raised a light wizard and past his shoulder Draco could see Harry. He looked happy. Ecstatic, even. He looked like he wanted to run to Draco and take him in his arms and kiss him. 

Lucius recovered rather quickly, turning back to Harry, wand still raised. “Get out,” he spoke, low and dangerous. Harry met his eyes and nodded before turning to catch Draco’s eye as he backed away. 

Harry paused. “I  _will_  always love you, Draco.” 

“Out!” Lucius roared. 

“Please don’t make him go,” Draco’s voice voice didn’t carry more than a few inches. No one heard. And Harry was out the door. “Please. Please don’t go.” But no one heard. 

Draco didn’t move from his place on the steps, sobbing and burying his face into his mother’s arm. His chest felt like he couldn’t breathe— like he was drowning in his sorrow. Everything ached, from his heart to his hands, and he wanted nothing more than for Harry to stroke his hair and call him angel and tell him that everything would be fine. 

He didn’t even get the chance to bask in the happiness that washed over him when Harry said the words back. Harry loved him and while the thought stuck in the back of his mind, Draco panicked in the more present thoughts that he would never see Harry again. 

The steps had caused his legs to go numb and the sun had risen by the time Draco ran out of tears. Yet, his body still shuddered with tear-less sobs. Eventually, he picked himself up and ran to his room, locking himself in and not opening the door when his mother tried to speak to him through it. 

All his life, Draco had never thrown a fit. That had been trained out of him. He was not to do something like show that much emotion, be that vulnerable. But he didn’t care. Couldn’t care. He couldn’t care about anything past the overwhelming  _ache_  that he felt. He loved Harry and Harry loved him and his mind just kept replaying the scene where his father’s wand was pressed into his love’s skin. They could never be together. It would never work. 

And Draco would never get over it. 

His heart was shattered. His  _world_  was shattered. And there was no going back. There was no charm to fix this. And so he cried into his pillow until the sun had risen again. 

He was inconsolable. He had gone numb. Nothing mattered anymore. A small voice inside of him told him he was being dramatic, but he didn’t care. If there was anything worth being dramatic for, this was it. 

__________

 

Draco caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror as he ghosted past. It almost startled him. He knew he hadn’t been eating properly or taking care of himself but he looked so pale he wouldn’t have been surprised to see the wall behind him. He moved on. It didn’t matter. 

Lucius had changed the wards. Draco no longer had the ability to modify them. They were also extended farther, covering the entire grounds, not simply the house itself. Everything about the manor carried a more ominous feel than it ever had before. The cold walls were like a prison. Part of Draco still wanted to run, but he didn’t know where or what he would run to. 

It was after three in the morning when Draco found himself wandering the manor. Stopping in the library, the study. It wasn’t until he was sure that his parents were asleep that he stole back to his room and sat down at his desk. The letter he composed was hurried and betrayed more of his emotions than any he had ever sent Harry. 

“Harry, 

Please. I don’t know if I can do this anymore. I can’t stand not seeing you, or at least receiving your letters. If what you said wasn’t true, then please tell me and this will all be over. But if you mean what you said— if you love me— then take me away. Run away with me. Leave all of this behind. I’ll be waiting. I’ll wait for you forever, but please. Run with me.  —Angel” 

He folded the letter in haste, and opened the cage of the large, black owl sitting on his desk. Draco instructed her to take the letter to Harry and to be fast. 

Watching her fly away was utterly terrifying. 

Draco meant what he said. He was ready to leave. He would leave. At a moments notice, Draco could and would run with Harry. He even had a bag already packed. Forget the life of fame and glamor that they were both accustomed to— Draco would throw it all away in an instant if it meant being with Harry. Harry was everything to him. 

Sunlight shone in through the window above him. Draco had been sitting under it since he sent off the owl, awaiting Harry’s response. There was none. Not yet, at least. But, nothing could appear amiss, so Draco stood and began his daily routine of walking around the manor, inconsolable. 

Around noon, he was called into his father’s office. A pit rose in his stomach, and he tried not to panic. What if his father knew that he sent off that owl? 

Draco sat in the stiff-backed chair across from his father’s desk, preparing himself. 

“Draco,” Lucius began and Draco’s mind returned to attention. “How long have you believed yourself to be in love with Harry Potter?”

Draco’s mind was swimming with questions. Why was he asking this? What was the aim of this conversation? Nevertheless, he would answer and see where the conversation would go. He was tired of all the lies his family held so dear. However, he wasn’t falling for the way Lucius would trick his words. How long had he  _believed himself_  to be in love with Harry? No. “I have been in love with Harry Potter for around four months.” 

For a brief second, something flashed behind Lucius’ eyes before it was quickly covered once more. It was shock. He was unaware. Draco knew he must think this was all some fling. It wasn’t. 

“When did you two even meet?”

What the question was really asking was ‘how long did it take for you to fall in love.’ “The ball. Six months ago.” 

Something twitched in Lucius’ jaw. Draco actually enjoyed the feeling of knowing that his father was squirming, even if he couldn’t quite see it. 

“Draco, you do not love him.” 

In one, confident motion, Draco stood abruptly. He would not subject himself to a conversation like that. “You are not one to tell me that I am not in love with—“

“Draco. Sit.” He hesitated in response, unsure. “Sit,” Lucius repeated. He watched his father take a deep breath, as if he were trying to explain a simple concept to someone who should have been perfectly capable. Draco resented that. “Firstly, you do not know what love is.”

“I know how I feel when I’m with him, and I know how I feel when I’m not.” 

“Draco, you’re feeling the thrill of rebellion with a little lust mixed in.” 

“You don’t know anything about what I’m feeling.” 

“Draco, you cannot love him.” 

“Why?” Draco stood once more, indignant. “Because of this illogical family feud? Because he’s a light wizard?” He paused. “Or is it just because he’s a wizard, at all?” 

Lucius shook his head. He seemed strangely sad, in a way. “Draco, it is not that. You really think that  _he_  loves  _you_? Dark wizards tend to be looser with morals. Not Harry Potter. He’s a light wizard, he’s a Potter, he’s a Gryffindor. And you think a man like that could love someone like you? We’re not good people, Draco. You know that, and it’s precisely the reason why the Potters hate us. The two of you are not in love. You are simply in a bubble. You are simply his secret. Once that bubble pops, he will be gone. 

“I know these words are harsh, Draco. But I don’t want to see you hurt any more by this. Our families don’t associate with one another, not simply because of an old feud, but rather a fundamental difference in beliefs. To the Potters, we are bad press. And that is all we will ever be.” Lucius paused for a moment, as if allowing Draco to make a response, but Draco didn’t know what to think anymore. “You may go now. Believe me, or don’t. While I hope that you will— and are able to save yourself the pain— children have a stubborn way of not believing their parents. I hope you don’t need to see it for yourself, but if you do then it makes sense and your mother and I will forgive you when this is all over.” 

 

Draco was sitting in his room when the owl returned with Harry's response. He was cross legged, on the bed, gaze unfocused and staring into the distance with his father's words ringing in his head. Was it true? Was he just some playful secret of Harry's? Would everything shatter when their bubble popped? 

It made Draco feel sick. Harry was everything to him. And, suddenly, Draco wasn't sure if he was everything to Harry. 

The owl at the window was growing increasingly impatient so Draco slipped up and let it in. The note was short, and looked as if it was written in a hurry. 

"Angel,

I know that things are difficult right now, really I do. I haven't been able to send letters, as my parents have found out as well and they disapprove and are keeping a careful eye on me. I assume your father is doing the same. But, Angel, we can't simply run away. Running away from our problems won't fix them and they'll only catch up to us. I love you, I really do. Meet me out in your garden tonight at midnight. -- H" 

 

Draco sat again, head spinning. It was happening. Their bubble was popping. Reality was going to come crashing in and it was like watching a floodgate open while being tied in front of it and knowing that there was nothing you could do to stop it. Harry said that he loved him, but would he still when he realized they couldn't have things like normal couples? 

Their parents would never approve, so the only way for them to be together would be to elope. But Harry didn't want to do that. Would Harry be able to, say, have a wedding without his parents? Draco would. He would do anything to be with Harry. Would Harry be alright with their children growing up and not knowing their grandparents? Because surely a Malfoy-Potter or Potter-Malfoy child would be considered an abomination and disgrace by both sides of the family. 

Draco didn't even bother with stopping himself as he pictured an entire future with Harry, because all he could see were all the ways it could come crashing down so easily. It was only a matter of time until Harry realized he could never have what he wanted with Draco. 

Eleven fourty-five rolled around and Draco was sitting on his floor, half dressed, debating about whether or not he would even meet Harry in the garden. What if he had changed his mind and things were over already? If Draco never left this room, he would never have to accept that he lost Harry. 

Draco shook his head. That was ridiculous. If he never left this room he wouldn't have Harry either. And that's when Draco made a decision. If his parents were going to force him away from Harry and try and force him into a marriage with that Astoria Greengrass then Draco would simply have to take a binding oath swearing that he would never marry another besides Harry Potter. It wasn't possible to ever find someone that he loved as much. He wanted to be with Harry for the rest of his life, and only Harry. 

With his mind made up, Draco dressed and very quietly opened his window before lowering himself down to the ground. He had no idea how he was going to get back up, but that wasn't the point right now. 

The garden was practically a maze, and Draco had no idea how Harry expected them to find one another. Muttering a quick lumos, Draco decided to start in the center with the rose bushes. 

Harry caught him in a kiss before Draco even fully registered he was there. “I have missed you so much.” When they finally pulled apart, there was pain written across Harry’s face. 

“Angel—“ he began, but Draco’s mind was already reeling. Here it comes. “We’re going to get out of this. I love you and I am not going to stop until you are mine. I will fight every single day— I will duel every wizard in existence, light or dark— to have you. I don’t care what they say. I will do whatever it takes to make you my husband. That is, if you will let me. Draco, if you will let me, I will stand by your side until I die.” 

And just like that, all of Draco’s doubts faded. How could he have been so stupid? His father knew just how to manipulate him and Draco had fallen for it so easily. How could he have ever denied the love that was so clearly in front of him now. 

“Yes, Harry. I love you.” He took his hands. “Run with me. Leave this all behind and—“ 

Harry pressed his forehead to Draco’s. “I don’t want to do that. I want to do this right. Running from our problems isn’t going to solve anything. We need to face them head on. I have an idea. But, you have to trust me.” 

Draco felt emotion overcome him and he tried to hold back tears. He didn’t want to wait anymore, and part of him felt like he couldn’t. “Harry,” his words barely came out a whisper. “I feel trapped here. Please, run away with me. Save me from this.” Tears began to slip out as Harry pulled away to look him in the eyes, his hands slipping from Draco’s to cup his cheeks. 

“It’ll be alright, Draco—“

“They’re trying to tell me how to feel. Trying to deny my feelings and manipulate my thinking. It’s like I’m going insane— I don’t even know what to think anymore. I’m second guessing everything. This love is so difficult and I don’t know if I can—“ 

“Yes, but Draco, this love is  _real_.” Harry’s fierce green eyes met Draco’s, grounding him. He knew that when he got back to the manor tonight, everything would feel wrong and he would question every part of this encounter, but for now. For now he trusted Harry and he knew that what Harry was saying was true. It was all going to be alright. 

Harry reached up, brushing a tear off Draco’s cheek with a thumb. “Don’t be afraid, angel. We’ll make it out of this mess. I have an idea.” 

“It’s not going to work, Harry. They’re going to force me to marry Astoria.” He hurried on before Harry could butt in. “And I won’t let that happen, Harry. I would sooner take a binding oath to never wed another but you than I would marry Astoria.” 

“Draco, please don’t do that. Oaths are never a good idea. I know that you want to marry me, and I want to marry you, Draco, but oaths are never a good idea.” 

How could he say that? “Why would that be such a terrible thing?”

Harry glanced around, unsure of what to say. He just knew that he didn’t like it. “Draco, what if I die? What if I die young and later you meet someone else? Someone that makes you happy. Look, Draco there are thousands of things that make that not a good idea. I just don’t want to risk anything when the stakes are your life.” Draco must not have looked convinced, because Harry continued, once more taking his hands. “Draco, you have to promise me that you won’t do that. Please?”

Tilting his chin up and somewhat swallowing his pride, Draco couldn’t deny Harry. “I promise to not do that unless we discuss it further. Is that sufficient?”

“Yes, my angel.” Harry kissed his hands and Draco’s expression softened. “You should get back before anyone notices that you’re gone.”

Tightening his grip, Draco shook his head. “No. I don’t want to leave you.”

“Angel, I have a plan. I promise. You just have to trust me. Wait for my owl and remember that no matter what they say I love you.” Their lips met and Draco’s fingers flew up, grasping in Harry’s hair, not wanting to let go. 

“Please hurry with your plan. I’m not sure if I can wait much longer.”

“I love you, my angel. Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” 

 

Draco’s room felt far too cold and empty when he got back. 

 

__________

 

Harry wasn’t quite sure what he had been expecting, but Lucius’ almost bored expression wasn’t quite it. Sure, the Malfoy’s weren’t exactly the most animated in terms of facial expressions, but Harry had been expecting something more of… well Lucius’ wand tip pressed into his throat again. 

“Using the front door now, I see?” 

“Actually, Mr. Malfoy, I am not here to see Draco. In fact, I came specifically when I knew that he wouldn’t be home.” Harry knew that Narcissa had taken Draco out that morning in an attempt to get him out of the house and his thoughts. She was a good mother. “I would like to speak with you, Mr. Malfoy.” 

Lucius looked skeptical, but a few moments later, Harry was sitting in Lucius’ office. Everything about the manor was intimidating, but sitting across from his future father in-law (if all went well), was one of the most intimidating things Harry had ever done in his life. 

“And what is it that you would like to speak about, Mr. Potter?”

“Draco.”

“Naturally.” 

“Sir, I think that—“

“I don’t care what you think. You’re young and stupid and so is Draco and you think that you’re in love. That’s not a forthcoming combination.” 

“I recognize that we can be naive, yes. In fact, that is one of the reasons I have come to speak with you today.” Now, he could tell he had piqued Lucius’ interest. Harry honestly couldn’t believe he was about to tell Draco’s father this, but it concerned him that Draco was considering it. “You and I both know how Draco is. He has told me that he is prepared to take a binding oath to not wed another besides myself.” Lucius hid his surprise well. 

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I think it’s stupid. Things can always change. I could die tomorrow. Any number of things could happen and oaths are never a good idea. That all being said, I would like to propose a solution.”

“And what would that be?”

“A proposal.” 

A moment passed before Lucius responded. “Absolutely not.” 

“Why not?”

“As I said, you are both young and stupid and simply because you believe you’re in love, does not mean that you are.” 

“Why should you care if we’re in love?” 

There was a pause. “I know it may not seem like it, Potter, but I do care for my son’s happiness.” 

“Yes, but you would be sending him into a loveless marriage with Astoria Greengrass anyway. Any defense you have for that would also work with me. So, my proposal would solve that problem. However, it does more than that. Mr. Malfoy, even if Draco and I never marry, we care enough for each other that we aren’t going to continue fighting like our families have done in the past. It’s over. But, if Draco and I married the iconic feud would become one of the strongest alliances the wizarding world has ever seen. Think about it. A Potter and a Malfoy? No one would have ever thought.”

Harry could see that Lucius was considering it. All of what Harry said was true, and Lucius honestly couldn’t make an argument against it. Harry was going to win, he could feel it. 

“I will give you permission to marry my son under one condition.” 

Anything. “And what is that?”

“My son never takes the Potter name.” 

Harry felt like beaming, but he was determined to hold that in until he was out of sight. “Agreed.” Draco was going to be so happy. Now, all he had to do was talk it out with his own parents. 

__________

 

Draco paced his room, feeling caged. It had been two weeks since his meeting with Harry in the garden. His owls kept saying that he just had to sort out a few last things. But Draco couldn’t stand it anymore. He was getting tired of waiting and he wasn’t quite sure he could keep telling himself that Harry did, in fact, love him and wasn’t just trying to stall. 

Then a letter arrived asking for Draco to meet him. 

Draco honestly couldn’t remember the last time he had moved so fast. He could see Harry from his window, on the edge of the manor grounds and he ran. He ran straight to Harry and didn’t stop until their arms were around each other. While clutching Harry close to his chest, Draco whispered, almost sobbing with relief.

“Harry, I’ve been feeling so alone without you. I know you keep telling me to wait and to trust you but it’s been two weeks and I was beginning to think that you weren’t— I don’t know what to think my parents have been acting strange and I feel like everything is just in my head and— Harry? Harry what are you— What are you doing?”

Harry was kneeling on the ground in front of him, holding out a gold ring. “Draco, all I know is that I love you. Nothing else matters. And I intend to marry you, Draco Malfoy. If you’ll have me.” 

“But, Harry. Our families, my father—“

“I spoke to them. I sat down with your father. We have his blessing, Draco, and—“ 

Draco flung himself onto Harry, arms wrapping around him. He was happy, he was so happy. He couldn’t believe it. 

Harry stood and Draco began an undignified babble of “can’t believe this is happening, I never thought we would actually be able to,” but he stopped it all when he felt Harry slide the ring onto his finger. Their eyes met, and Draco knew everything was going to be perfect. Harry was all he had ever dreamed of. And Draco’s dreams were finally coming true.

“I love you.” 

“I love you too, angel.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! Please feel free to leave a comment and/ or message me on [ tumblr ](https://www.shelvesuponshelves.tumblr.com)
> 
> The drarry playlist is [ here ](https://open.spotify.com/user/jamesilver/playlist/1fIuJApIJzhm1snajKKmrm?si=-n08dDFGRZ6_1xCZlDbLug)
> 
> Also, feel free to leave any song recommendations for the playlist!! I will continue to write more fics based off of songs and they will be added into this series!!
> 
> I am also currently taking ficlet requests on [ tumblr ](https://www.shelvesuponshelves.tumblr.com)
> 
> If you like my writing and would like to, you can [ Buy me a coffee ](http://ko-fi.com/jamesilver) If you do, please remember that this is simply a donation to me and in no way a payment for my works, as the works will continued to be posted regardless of donations


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